Birds of a feather
by l2adiol2obot
Summary: They were apart for four, almost five years. Nightwing needed to get out of Batman's shadow. But now they are having a reunion and things are being brought to the surface. Bruce's sleeping habits, the nightmares have returned. Oh yeah and saving Barb too.


**A/N: **

**Title:** Birds of a feather

**Rating:** T

**CO-WRITTEN WITH x - artistic s p e r m **

** Pairing(s):** Future Bruce/Dick, mentions of Dick/Barbara, mentions of Bruce/Selina

The point of view is constantly going to be switched between Dick and Bruce. This was written as a Role-play.

**I write for Bruce/Batman's pov.**

**x - artistic s p e r m writes for Dick/Nightwing's pov**

Forgive us for any spelling errors or grammar mishaps.

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><p><strong>C H A P T E R - ONE<strong>

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><p><strong>BRUCE WAYNE - BATMAN POV<strong>

Tonight was going to be horrific.

Well, not really, but Bruce thought so. He paced around in his study, a bundle of nerves. Why was he so nervous? He had a weird feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach. He just _knew_ something was going to happen tonight. Good or bad, that was debatable. Regardless, it made him restless. He let out a sigh of frustrated pent up exhaustion. He hadn't been sleeping again, he'd been having nightmares. All of them involving losing someone he cared about. Be it Alfred, Barbara, his parents...and his old partner, Richard. The only problem? When he awoke in a sweat, panting, and vocal chords horse from all the shouting. He didn't know which hurt the worse. Losing his parents or losing Dick.

"Bruce?... Are you doing okay?" Now he knew he was out of it if someone was able to sneak up on him. The bad part? It wasn't even sneaking. She had probably made noise, he had just been too lost in his thoughts to notice. Bruce turned towards the blond that stood at five feet and seven inches. "No, Barbara... I'll get over it." He added lightly, turning away from her and glancing at the painting of his parents and himself when he had been only a child. "Still can't sleep without waking up from one of those nightmares?" Bruce's questioning face must of been all too clear before he got the question on the tip of his tongue out there in the air. She rolled her eyes and spoke with her hands on her hips. "Come on Bruce, I may be a few doors down from your room, but I _can_hear you when you wake up from one of them. It doesn't take someone of your IQ level to figure that out. You got to get ready, you got a party to get to." Bruce fought the urge to roll his own eyes and say something sarcastic.

Shrugging on a tux and making sure he looked the part that he was suppose to play, he walked out the door and into the limo awaiting him and Barbara. Ah, yes, Barbara Gordon, the commissioner's daughter and what Bruce liked to think of as his adopted niece or something the like. She still fought crime with him to make up the loss of Robin. But she didn't go along as much as Bruce went out in the night. She did have other things to think about...or people. He had asked her once how Richard had been doing. She claimed she didn't know because he stopped writing her. He had asked why.

Barbara looked at him and then out the window without replying. He knew why, it was because it hurt too much. That she stood behind and stayed with him because they knew he couldn't keep the city safe all by himself. That and she had probably been the one to stop answering the letters, so said letters stopped coming. He guessed it had been too hard for them. You know what hurt the most? Richard had never wrote him. Had he been nothing more than just a mentor, someone to show him what he needed to know, give him a roof over his head. Then the second he leaves off to college...it's over. Bruce didn't know how to deal with it. His worse weakness he had was trusting people. The lack of trust, finding it hard to trust someone. Why? Because usually the second he gave them his trust, they threw it back in his face. Betrayed him somehow.

He shrugged it off mentally, he was becoming more distant. He was giving into the Bat more and more daily and losing his identity of who he was. Sometimes he only thought of himself as Batman. Who was Bruce Wayne after all? No one, a public face with lots of money to give away. Someone to give powerful speeches, donate to the needy and the most eligible bachelor. Women wanted him, men wanted to be him. Even some men wanted him nowadays. Times were changing. But one thing that didn't change was the crime on the street. It didn't take long before they arrived at the large party where he was the honored guest. He strode in, smile in place and Barbara on his arm. She was his date tonight, to the public he was possibly seeing her. To anyone who really knew them, knew it was anything but that. He talked to several people and when the time came gave his speech. When he finished, he was tired and felt the need to be alone.

The night air brought a welcome chill to his body as he stepped out on the balcony over looking the city. His city. But for how long? Did he tire of what he did? Yes and no. He loved saving people that needed someone to be there for him. They needed someone, the streets just weren't safe. Especially not with the weirdos that Gotham seemed to get. But the fact remained the same. Some people were wary of him, some people even feared the bat. But when it came to the man behind the mask, they welcomed him with open arms. Despite the fact that he was a public face, he couldn't feel more in the shadows than now. He had always kept to himself as a kid. Being an only child was hard, especially when it came to making friends and the kids finding out who his parents were.

After the death of his parents, he had ended up getting home schooled. He had always been smart, genius smart. It showed because he had a number of degrees in almost everything. From social science to engineering. Just about every gadget that he used was created by himself. Getting the resources, sketching the plans and then building on them. Without a doubt, he'd have to say that the only people he let in to his life were the people who knew his secret. But when it came to love... it usually ended badly or stabbed him in the back. Thankfully only metaphorically. He didn't know if he'd recover from actually getting stabbed in the back and he really didn't ever want to find out. His bat suit could protect from a lot of stuff, sharp objects was always a weak point. But he was working on a new design for knives to be harder to make a dent in his suit.

Bruce gazed up at the moon, it was very bright tonight, hanging up in the sky alone. The stars were there, maybe, but thanks to all the city lights... it looked as alone as he felt. At least he _had_ been alone. He heard the footsteps, someone was joining him on the balcony. He had sharpened senses due to all the training he endured rigorously. Nothing supernatural, no, Bruce was by all means human... just a little something more. He tensed his body, ready for anything. Turning around, he found someone he had not expected to see...ever again. The years may have passed but he'd know those features anywhere. He took in the other boy's... no, a man now, his appearance quickly. If you went off of muscle mass alone, anyone would say that this person could take Bruce on. But anyone that was truly smart, knew that muscles weren't everything.

"It's been awhile... How have you been Richard?" One thing that Bruce would have to get used to depending on how long this man stood in his life was calling him 'Dick' again. But that had been years ago when he had been younger. It was an unexpected reunion, and he didn't know how to act properly. He leaned against the stone railing, being at ease despite everything. It had been four going on five years since he had last seen his old partner. Partner as in solving crime and getting the criminals into prison... not partner romantically. Bruce had taken in Dick Grayson as his ward legally, someone that could take care of him. Thinking back to the grapevine of super heroes, he hadn't heard anything about Robin. For a moment, he had gotten scared that Richard.. that something had happened to him. That he had lost him like everyone else. But here he was.

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><p><strong>DICK GRAYSON - NIGHTWING POV<strong>

Two backhand springs concluded with a full twist in flight before the costumed hero was back on his feet. Under the light of the moon which had bathed Gotham in its unholy radiance good and evil did battle atop the skyscrapers of the marvelous city. Buildings that were so high that when these two forces clashed it was as if they met in the heavens themselves. "The jig is up, Riddler!" Gotham's hero called in a triumphant decree as the villain dawning a green suit with question marks adorning it ran at him wildly with cane in hand. With a powerful leap and precise timing the hero of this story was off the ground doing a front flip into the air before catching himself on the Riddler's shoulder's in a handstand pushing the villain forward as he continued the movement, once more landing on his feet turning quickly to find his enemy stumbling towards the edge of the building. "Shit!" He seethed through his teeth as he watched the staff go off the side of the building followed by the Riddler himself. Reaching for the rope, which was attached to his belt,he quickly unhooked it and without even thinking ran as fast as he could and with force all the while swinging the rope attached to the grappling hook, over head.

The moment he step off the building the grappling hook was released sailing into flight as he free fell relying solely on his own ability not even concerned whether the grappling hook was going to catch its mark, the opposite building, his first concern was catching the falling villain. Leaning into a diving position he cut through the air in a rapid decent falling his black suit resembling that of the Bat in one of these heroic moments. In only a few moments the Riddler was caught and securely in the hero's clutches just as rope snagged, confirming that it was locked in place, the two now swinging over head in Gotham. A spotlight appeared on our hero and down below the police ha gathered with a crowd, each holding their breaths as the hero carried the villain to the top of the arc the two swinging higher and higher as he let go allowing them to soar through the air hurdling towards the nearest building.

The two landed with a hard '_thud_' all their air in their lungs being forced out as they rolled, both realizing that the first one back on his feet would have the advantage. The Riddler stopped himself on his back using what strength he had to try and forcefully bring himself to his feet only to be pressed back flat on his back by a foot which nearly caved in his chest. "What are you guys planning?" The masked hero asked pressing harder and harder, restricting the riddler's ability to breath. "The plan -" The Riddler coughed as the foot lightened up a bit.

"The plan that we have in store, might make the Bat a little sore." The Hero dug his foot into the Riddler's chest once more inciting him to continue his poem. "Wouldn't it be amazing if the team were made whole? Heroic, dynamic, brave and bold. Once reformed, this team of wonder. Shall we destroy it, annihilate it, and tear it asunder!" The Riddler gave a hardy cackle as if no longer realizing that his chest was about to collapse. "What's that suppose to mean?" The sound of choppers overhead meant that this chat had to be wrapped up soon the hero already know that the cops would be appearing on the roof at any moment to arrest the vigilante and the villain. "Tonight performance shall revive a time, when this entire city was run by crime!" The roof door was busted wide open finding their criminal gift wrapped for them in a tight rope, bound and gagged. A blue batarang, made to look like a raven was placed on his chest the calling card and challenge to all the other criminals in Gotham letting them know that Nightwing was back in town.

"Young master Grayson, we've been sitting here in this traffic for fifteen minutes, are you sure you don't want me to just take the long way?" The chauffeur of the limousine asked looking into the rear view mirror to catch a peek at the young man who sat in the back, clean-cut and pristine, in Joseph Bank tuxedo. "No Alfred, I want to see what's going on." The old man raised an eyebrow in the mirror starring daggers at the man, his expression reading, something like, 'you know **exactly** what's going on.' but, he didn't say it instead he just kept driving. "By the way, thank you for coming to get me Alfred, Bruce doesn't know, right?" Alfred looked up in the mirror with a gentle smile. "Young master Grayson -" "Dick." The man interrupted trying to dispense with the formalities. "Like I was saying, young master Grayson.

I would have expected to pick you up from the airport but I guess a parking garage in the middle of downtown is closer and more convenient and like you asked, sir, I have not informed, master Wayne of you arrival, I suspect he will be rather surprised." Alfred said with a smile nodding though Dick could tell that this smile was not a smile of joy, it was a smile of relief. Alfred was relieved Dick was home and Dick concluded that it could mean only one thing, Bruce was having the dreams again. There was once a time when Dick would go and climb into Bruce's bed at night so that to calm him and keep him company, to ward off the bad dreams, for as long as Bruce had someone he cared for laying next to him he was, relatively, okay. Is this what Alfred hoped for? That maybe Dick being around would quell the dark spirits which haunted Bruce? Dick wasn't sure and he dared not ask, last he remembered, Bruce's dreams was a bit of a taboo to speak about in the Wayne house. Unless you were speaking to Bruce himself, no one dared mention his dreams, especially not Alfred.

Dick stared out the window as they passed by the cops and the crowd. He watched as the car slowly crept by in traffic. They had just escorted the Riddler down and were sliding him, once more, into the back of a police car bound for Arkham, but before he went in he watched the limousine as if he knew exactly who was looking at him through the tinted windows, as if he knew who was in the car, this kind of scared Dick as he just watched the scene slowly passing by, slipping into memory as the car finally passed by the crowds and began to gain a normal speed for the city streets. _What team?_ Dick wondered as he pondered the Riddler's words. For some reason this Riddle seemed so easy as compared to his others, it was very straight forward and didn't leave room for miss guessing but even still it seemed, hard. For a week now, Nightwing had been tracking criminals that had escaped from Arkham around the time he arrived. Hopping from hotel to hotel he followed their trail, trying to figure out each of their ties to one another. _Could it be their 'team', no they wouldn't break up their own team._Dick's mind was scattered and he really couldn't think clearly, not with this party and Bruce's dreams weighting on his mind.

The limo pulled up at the Wayne building and Dick stepped out. There were no newspapers, no cameras, no adoring fans, they had long since left now the party had been well underway. As the car pulled off, Dick made his way inside and into the lobby passing a few guys who'd stepped out for a smoke and smiled nodding as he made his way to the elevator clicking the button to be let into the pent house, upstairs, where he was sure the party was.

He stood alone still contemplating but now allowing t to show. He couldn't help it, he needed to know what was going on, out there in the city of Gotham. Of course, Bruce was probably already piecing together clues that he had collected as well, but Dick had to figure it first. Maybe it was his pride. Maybe it was his need to make a name for himself and step out of the shadow of the Dark Knight, Batman and the billionaire Bruce Wayne. In various cities on the map Nightwing was the hero. Nightwing was always there to save the day and catch the bad guys red-handed, but none of that mattered to Dick. Gotham was Richard Grayson's home, the prize, for him, any other city, was just, a city. Richard Grayson, Nightwing, _needed_ only for Gotham to look to him in the stead of Batman. He was ready, he could feel it in his bones, he could do the job, just as good, if not **better**, than Batman and he _needed_ Gotham City to realize this.

While lost in thought, Dick had not realized that several waiters had stepped onto the elevator carrying several trays of gourmet hors-d'oeuvres. Raising an eyebrow he cocked his head slightly, finally realizing that there were no paparazzi outside, no cars and no screaming fans. He had been so scattered brained that he not even realized exactly how late he was. Of course, Alfred had not informed him that his little escapade with The Riddler had put him back almost half an hour.

The Butler was truly insidious and in his attempt to cure Dick of his rude habits wanted nothing more than for Dick to walk into that party and be spotted by Bruce during his speech causing the man to stumble and embarrass in his surprise making for a great night for Alfred as he listened in on the lecture that the boy, no, man, would receive. This was Alfred's attempt to relive old times. Apparently Richard Grayson's return to Gotham city wasn't just a chance for Bruce Wayne to remember old times _but_, unfortunately for Alfred, Dick realized much to soon and in moments had convinced one of the waiters to take a break and took his tray throwing the white towel over his arm. Dick had done enough reconnaissance work in up scale parties to know how to play a waiter and the best way to go was with the hors-d'oeuvres, that way, you didn't have to talk to anyone and you could keep your back on suspecting eyes.

As the Elevator opened Dick stepped out with the other waiters taking a moment to assess the situation his gaze falling first on the man who stood on the podium addressing the white collars, with his words of gold. A smile tugged at his lips as he listened for a moment already realizing that Barbara had written his speech, as she had since she joined the team. The shy Bruce Wayne was not the one to give a true speech. Once, there was a time Bruce Wayne would stand up, call for a toast, and sit down and no matter how much he was pushed, he wouldn't say much.

As Bruce looked around to the crowd, summing up his speech, Dick ducked his head becoming one with the crowd as he began to transverse the room passing out the hors-d'oeuvres to anyone that called for one. Every now and again he'd glance back at Bruce, feeling inspired not by his words, no, it was his presence that was utterly intoxicating. It had been years since Dick had even seen Bruce Wayne and even though he was trying to hide himself among the masses, he could not help but be drawn to him as he once was a child. Something about this man gave Dick a sense of safety that he had not felt since the day Bruce Wayne took him in after the -.

Once more the Music began to play and the white collars were soon back to their mingling moving among themselves wining and dinning, talking politics, economics, and hey, even sports. Whilst Dick disposed of the tray and towel he'd used as his disguise, he never took his eye of the mark seeing her across the room talking to her father. Barbara, his girlfriend for the first few years of college, how he had once loved her so. Though, there was no doubt that she did not come with her father, he could sense it, she came as Bruce's date the very reason he could never be with her. Long ago, all those many years she had chosen Bruce over him and because of this he did not know if he could ever feel the same for her _but_ he felt the urge to at least say 'hello', seeing as how she was once his partner. Weaving through the crowd he made his way towards the commissh, as he called him, and his daughter trying to think of something to say, if she had forgotten him but movement out of Dick's peripheral vision drew his attention for a moment and as he looked to see what it was his whole mind-set and mission changed.

Taking one last glance in Barbara's direction he smiled before turning to follow Bruce who had decided to take some alone time, outside on the balcony. He straightened his jacket and his bow tie, trying to look as though he belonged among the white collars maybe just maybe he could fool the old man who, by now, had probably long since succumbed to senility. Maybe just maybe he could convince the man who he was the Prince of Wales or something. As he stepped out onto the balcony he took a deep breath walking silently as if to try to sneak up on the man already reciting common Welsh phrases to mentally prepare himself to pull off a British accent.

As Bruce turned Dick outstretched his hand ... DAMNIT! Dick sighed his hand falling back to his side disappointed as his other hand slipped through his hair, this was a clear sign that Dick had given up before he began. "Bruce." He said acknowledging the man, slightly upset. "How are you?" He asked as a white smile appeared on his face. He took a few steps forward as Bruce leaned back on the railing, looking him over, a few grays here and there but Bruce hadn't grown nearly as old as he hoped. Dick moved to join the man on the railing looking out over Gotham, still envious of all this that Batman had in his grasp but was more than confident that one day she would call to him to save her from peril.

"You look - old," Dick said looking to Bruce. He was obviously kidding but that comment wasn't just to Bruce Wayne for even though only two people stood on that Balcony four men were actually present and Nightwing did not share the same kidding attitude as he spoke to Batman. Dick's blue eyes starred deep into Bruce's as if trying to read him, "but, I'm guessing, that's not how you feel." He said standing straight looking Bruce from head to toe comparing his memories to the man who stood before him now but Nightwing was sizing the man up, teasing him and, in a way, challenging him.

A waiter with a champagne tray passed the door to the balcony seeing the two men and stepped out for a moment offering them both drinks which Dick accepted without delay. Taking two drinks, by the stem, from the tray he handed one to Bruce before taking a drink from his own glass nodding as if coaxing Bruce to drink with him, once more a challenge from Nightwing reminding the man that the boy he once knew was now gone. As Dick sipped from the glass he reminded Bruce Wayne that Dick Grayson, was now a man. "Cheers."

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><p><strong>BRUCE WAYNE - BATMAN'S POV<strong>

"Gee, thanks, tell me how you really feel Dick."

Bruce grimaced at being told that he was old. After all this time, _that's_ what he had to say to him? "Thirty five is not old..I don't even look that old.." Bruce mumbled to himself bitterly. Or was it the Bat coming to his defense? Bruce Wayne by default was a shy man who mainly kept to himself. Sometimes the dark knight had to remind himself that on the rooftop wasn't just two regular men talking. There was a total of four different personalities on the balcony. Bruce, himself, he couldn't stop himself from letting his eyes trail down the other's form. When Richard Grayson grew up, he sure did it well. Batman on the other had saw this as a rival, someone who was looking to make a name for themselves.

"You know, there hasn't been any talk of Robin at all or any other super hero for quite some time." The bat had added, rubbing it in. His defensive walls were built up and he was on guard now. He was thankful he had gotten those words out far before a server came baring champagne which Dick handed a glass to him. Despite the _friendly_(friendly being used loosely) rivalry going on between the ones that wear the masks. Bruce couldn't help himself from letting his touch Dick's hand when he moved to grab the glass from the other. Bruce was fighting for dominance between the bat trying to take over. He didn't want to fight with the younger man. Fighting was the last thing he wanted seeing him again after all these years.

"How come you never wrote?..." Bruce questioned softly. He felt himself needing to study the shine of his shoes instead of looking at the man in question. Dick hadn't wrote one letter to him... no he had only written Barbara for a while, at least he assumed she was the only person he had been writing to. For all he knew, Dick could of been writing to Alfred. Bruce was letting down his guard, the bat was silently arguing him inside his mind that it wasn't a smart move. Never leave yourself vulnerable to an attack even if it's from someone you once considered as a family member. Bruce himself never married nor had he had any children. In a world like this, what was the point? Why bring someone into a world with such hatred and strife? Where in the world, someone you think loves you only to betray you and leave you for dead. Okay so maybe the bat was overreacting. Selina hadn't exactly left him for dead. He had only been hanging from a building, upside down by one of her whips. Okay so maybe Bruce was trying to find excuses and make it seem like it was fine. Fine that she had left him there, his only option to cut himself down and fall. Luckily, the bat was in charge at the time. Battling for dominance over his emotions and glided some before the wound on his stomach became to much due to the movement of his muscles and he fell.

Thank God for Barbara.

She had been patrolling the other side of the city and was suppose to meet up with him at a specific location. But when Batman never showed, she panicked and had Alfred activate the tracking device in his suit. Thus finding him in the darkness of an alley, fighting a concussion, fighting to not black out until it was safe. Once his eyes had landed on Barb, he all but jumped into the arms of the welcoming darkness. That had been six months ago. Six dreadful months since the nightmares had started up again now that he was all alone. Bruce didn't have anyone. Batman didn't _need_ anyone. But Bruce, he needed and wanted someone with him. He was fearful of being alone yet couldn't bring himself to trust anyone else. Trusting someone new would leave him vulnerable to putting himself into danger. Putting Batman in to danger, because Batman couldn't say no to a civilian in danger, had to rescue them. Their safety would always come before his.

The nightmares were no different from the ones in the past. The ones where Dick's presence helped him years ago. When Dick knew he needed someone, he didn't hesitate into climbing into his bed for comfort. Of course at the time, it had been platonic. Nothing between them at all besides the familial bond. Or maybe the bond between two people having their parents ripped away from them. Two people being unable to do anything at the time, but now had the power to stop that from ever happening again. Bruce knew he probably _did_indeed look old, he sometimes even felt that way. But not always, just... during his times of distress when the nightmares took over and prevented him from doing anything. He hardly felt like eating, he couldn't sleep.. when he did it only resulted in waking up, throat hoarse from screaming and at the most having slept only maybe two hours of restful sleep. Anything more and it was only because the nightmare had it's claw sunken deep into Bruce's soul and wouldn't let go no matter how hard he struggled. Barbara had once tried to wake him up by touching him.

Never again.

Now when he screams, she sits back and squirms, wanting to help and knowing that her touch isn't what his body needs or wants. It isn't familiar enough. Nothing, not the warmth, the muscle tone and certainly not her smell. Bruce finally gets tired of looking anywhere but Dick's face and meets those eyes head on. He was sure everything was probably there, laid bare before the younger man. His pain, how tired he was. He was sure there was dark circles under his eyes once he let them show. Once he stopped giving off his bravado for the crowd and false charisma. Once he let go and show how he was truly feeling, he was nothing more than a broken man that needed to be fixed. "You don't know how much I've missed you..." The bat wanted to cringe at how overly emotional Bruce was leaving himself open for, wanted to scoff and shrug it off. Say that he didn't miss the kid one bit. Which of course was a lie. The bat knew he needed someone by his side, knew he couldn't shoulder the city by himself no matter how hard he tried.

After ten more minutes of being in each others presence. Everything went to shit.

It had started with a scream, an outcry when suddenly the side of the wall gave way from a large explosion. Bruce was slightly startled but not unprepared. He set the glass down and went away from the balcony, a couple of steps so that he was in good view of what was happening. That and the fact that he needed people to a test to his presence being there when batman showed up. Though Bruce didn't even get the chance to react and climb down from the place. No, the bat wasn't going to be let out because one second, he thought he seen Barbara by her father, laughing with the commissioner. Then next, she's being approached by two henchmen, watching them hold her in place. Bruce sees her trying to break free, but it would look strange if she busted out doing close combat. Barbara Gordon isn't suppose to be able to do such things.

"Joker..." How had the Joker broken free? Last Batman knew, he had threw him in Arkham and they threw away the key. He was suppose to be locked up once and for all, yet here he was. Walking in all his glory, a permanent smile gracing his lips as he looked across the crowd.

"WELL lookie here at all you fine people. Tonight, is a special night. I'd like to thank you all for throwing me this party on such a GRAAAAAND occasion. How'd ya all know I was coming? Here I thought It was going to be a surprise. Bet your all wondering why I'm here. WEEEELL, I'll be nice and tell you bozos why. A little birdie told me that Batman has a thing for a little blonde who just so happens to be the commissioner's daughter. Interesting right? Let's see if the birdie was right."

Bruce didn't even bother thinking things through, he didn't want to know what they were going to do to someone who he thought of as a sister or niece. Instead, he reached for the balcony's ledge, Batman suddenly taking over and dropped down, catching the floor below the pent house's ledge, scaling the wall with reflexes most didn't possess. He always was prepared for something crazy to happen. You don't be a superhero for twelve years before you start thinking bad shits going to occur at every celebration. He has a panic room located down below. He skillfully gets inside through the window and presses on the secret location, the door opening. Stepping inside, he quickly suits up. Grabbing batarangs and the like.

Bruce wasn't here right now, but feel free to leave a message after the beep.

Once Batman finished suiting up, it didn't take long before he shot the batclaw up the ledge and practically flew through the window, appearing on the scene to see Joker holding Barbara's jaw in his hands and speaking to her. Everyone else was silent, watching the scene with wide eyes and dropped jaws. Henchmen saw him and started in his direction, some with weapons, most of them close quarter based. He ignored them and went after the couple with the gun. Throwing a batarang and launching the gun elsewhere. He felt someone approaching him from behind and spun around, kicking one of the henchmen in the face and watching him with a satisfied feeling of seeing the man spin and fall to the floor. Then he drew his right hand back, striking another in the face, then the stomach and then tossing him as if he were nothing to the side. One managed to latch on to him, holding him in place while another took his knife and was about to slash into his stomach.

"Oooo, open your eyes blondie. The good parts about to happen." Batman struggled to throw the man holding him off and managed to elbow him in the stomach and then reach for the one who was going to stab him. Grabbing his wrist, he twisted it in a direction it wasn't meant to go in. The man screamed in pain, dropped the knife but Batman hadn't stopped there, no, he twisted it further until he heard the snap of the bone. Once that was finished he dropped the man, not paying him any mind while he squirmed on the floor, crying in pain. "Yeah, the part where I kick your ass. Let her go."

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><p><strong>Thoughts? Comments? Any feedback please. Your reviews depends on whether another chapter will be posted when it's finished. I post these things for you, the reader. : )<strong>


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